


Take My Hand

by Love_andbalance



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Babies, Ben is the grumpy one, Childbirth, F/M, Feuding Families, Happy Ending, I had to research medieval clothing, Loss of Virginity, Minor GingerRose, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Rey is the sunshine one, Seduction, Vaginal Sex, You're Welcome, and undergarments, medieval romance, reylo au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_andbalance/pseuds/Love_andbalance
Summary: In antiquity, a woman might be an object of worship or desire, but never of love - Octavio PazThe young Lady Rey has spent all of her life betrothed to Lord Ren, and now the day of the wedding has finally arrived. She's never seen her groom and is surprised and delighted to discover that he is the most handsome man she has ever laid eyes on. She's determined to win both his body and his heart.Lord Ren has finally come to begrudgingly collect a bride he doesn't want, and can't figure out why the girl won't stop smiling at him during the wedding.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 76
Kudos: 494





	1. The Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aiming for a clashing families repaired through an arranged wedding vibe, so Rey is from the Palpatine family and Ben is from the Skywalker/Solo family.
> 
> I deeply apologize for any resemblance that has to the monstrosity that was TROS. I love Rey Nobody from Jakku, but she needed family for this story to work!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was nothing so attractive as a powerful, handsome, and self-assured man.- Sylvia Day

Rey fidgeted in her seat. She was trying to be patient, but she had waited for many years and now the long-anticipated day was finally here.

All that remained now was waiting for someone to summon her.

He should have been here by now, but it seemed that even now he was determined not to come for her.

She pulled absent mindedly at the flowing sleeves of her dress. There was dark gold stitching on the light golden fabric, and both shone in the sunlight that was still streaming in through the high window.

Grandfather had certainly spared no expense on her appearance this time. Not to ensure that she felt beautiful on her wedding day, of course, but to give the groom no reason to complain.

The betrothal had stood for years, since before she could even recall, but there was always a chance that her future husband could decide not to go through with the marriage.

If he did so because he didn’t find her pretty enough, she would never be able to live with the shame and her grandfather’s anger would be unimaginable.

The joining of the two great houses, Palpatine and Solo, was something that not so long ago both sides would have considered impossible. The feud had lasted for centuries, and the well-planned marriage between Lady Rey of house Palpatine and Lord Ren of house Solo was to be the end of it.

She knew little about him. Grandfather had refused to indulge her questions over the years. All of what she knew she had learned through eavesdropping on his conversations or by listening to the servants’ gossip.

He was older than she was, though Grandfather had refused to tell her how much so. Perhaps he might be very old? She shuddered at the thought of that.

She was sure he wouldn’t be young and handsome, but she did hope for someone who wasn’t terribly old.

Or terribly unkind.

She knew he was a knight and rumors held that he was skilled in battle. Some knights were kind and followed a code of loyalty and devotion. Some were interested only in the violence of battle and the spoils of war.

She had seen both kinds come and go through the castle over the years, so that told her little of the type of man her husband would be.

He was also wealthy and powerful, which she knew was the most important reason that she was betrothed to him. Grandfather wanted more of both of those things, and her marriage would help him achieve that goal.

She knew nothing else.

For so long she had wanted only to get the thing done with, and now that it was here, she was terrified and wishing to go back to when it was only a distant concern that could be easily ignored.

A sudden knock at the door disrupted her panicked thoughts.

It must be time.

She grabbed the flowers that had been left for her to carry with a shaking hand and opened the door to find one of her grandfather’s knights waiting to escort her downstairs. She didn’t recognize him, and realized that this, too, she would face essentially alone.

As she had faced everything else since her parent’s had died.

The short walk down the stairs to the great hall seemed to take ages. Every part of her was numb and her feet were barely moving. The sound of voices from the great hall grew louder but she could barely hear over the thudding of her own heart in her ears.

She stepped into the room and her eyes began a frantic search for a familiar face, or even the friendly face of a stranger, but the crowd was pressing out the doors and moving to the chapel where the priest was waiting.

Only two men remained still, watching the stairs as the crowd shuffled past them. One was her grandfather. The other was a very tall man with pale skin and wavy back hair that was nearly long enough to brush his shoulders. He was wearing armor and traveling clothes of a knight and looked tired and irritated. 

The air in her lungs simply abandoned her as her eyes swept over him. He was not terribly old, though it did appear that he was older than herself by several years.

He was also without a doubt the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Something inside her fluttered as she took in his features. His face was handsome, with a large nose and dark hair on his upper lip and chin. His mouth looked soft and inviting even from across the room.

He spotted her suddenly and leaned down to speak to her grandfather as he looked her over from head to toe. She couldn’t be embarrassed at his casual perusal of her body, not after she done the same thing to him moments before, but she also couldn’t stop the way her lips twitched up as a smile crept across her face.

Relief was flooding through her and it brought with a euphoria that she was unprepared for.

She knew that was him. She could sense it in her bones. And he wasn’t terribly old, or terribly ugly, and even though he looked tired and travel worn, his eyes on her were not unkind or full of malice as she had feared they would be.

Tears stung her eyes from the simple wonder that so many of her terrors had already been vanquished.

His brows knit together in confusion as he turned to walk away. Her grandfather followed and though he, too, looked at her in confused irritation he did not appear to be angry.

She must have passed the groom’s inspection. He found her tolerable to look at, and so the wedding would move forward.

She followed quietly behind the crowd, waiting outside the door of the chapel as she had been instructed to do, until everyone else had filed inside and her grandfather joined her. It was his responsibility, she realized, to hand her over to her new husband.

He didn’t speak to her, nor she to him, as he laid his hand on her arm.

She didn’t hate him, but neither did she know him. She had come here as a child, after her parents had died of a sudden illness, and she had been promptly handed over to a nursemaid. He had no use for children, and less use for girls, until she was old enough to fulfill her part in the betrothal.

Which should have been several years ago, she was nearing twenty, but the groom had been too busy to come and claim his bride. She suspected he was only here now because further delays would have been cause for hostility between the families.

He had certainly managed to show up late to his own wedding, anyway, which would have annoyed her if she hadn’t been holding on to those brief extra minutes of freedom.

She held her breath as the doors to the chapel opened and she saw him waiting her inside.

He still looked grumpy, and in a hurry to get the whole thing over with, but he was still beautiful, and she flashed him another bright smile. He frowned and shook his head in confusion as she walked toward him down the aisle.

Lord Ren towered over her as her grandfather transferred her hand from his own arm to her betrothed’s. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder and she realized she would be saying most of her vows to his armor-plated chest. 

Not that it really upset her. She knew what he looked like, all the way up there, and there was something fascinating about how unbelievably large he was. Her eyes took in the breadth of his chest and the thickness of his arms.

She smiled again and kept smiling because she couldn’t stop.

Not even when the priest gave her dirty looks for not being properly somber during her vows or when the groom began to shoot concerned looks in her directions like he thought she might have gone slightly mad.

She finished her vows, promising to love him and obey him, and waited patiently as the priest asked her betrothed to repeat his part of the sacred promises.

Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened at the first sound of his voice. It was low and silky and caused a shiver to run up her spine at the sound of it. 

She found it impossible to even concentrate on his words as she let the sound of him roll over her delightfully.

Her smile got even bigger, if that were even a possibility.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t realize that the ceremony itself was ending until her groom reached for her hand and slipped a heavy gold ring on her finger. His hands were warm and strong and though they were incredibly large, he seemed to be taking great care to be gentle with her.

She pushed his ring on onto his hand with shaking fingers. He must have noticed, because gave her hand light and reassuring squeeze.

The next time she snuck a glance at him, he seemed less grumpy.

And then everything was done, and he was turning her toward him and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek, just brushing the corner of her mouth with his own. It was a long way down to her, so she pressed herself on tiptoe, kissing his cheek at the same time. He seemed surprised, but pleased.

She almost thought she caught a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of _his_ mouth.

She was smiling again as he led her back up the aisle and across the castle yard to the entrance of the great hall again.

There would be food and wine and celebration as their wedding feast began, and he settled her quickly into a seat beside him as the crowd from the chapel returned.

He was naturally seated next to her grandfather, whose place was at the head of the table.

Soon there were others seated around her that she didn’t recognize. His men, she assumed, since they also looked travel worn and irritated.

They were dressed similarly to their lord, though their clothing was not as fine. 

She glanced down at her own gold dress and then at his armor, with its painted gold leaf, and the gold embellished stitching on the black fabric that covered his arms. They matched she realized. It was amusing somehow.

Her new husband started stacking food on front of her, as though afraid she hadn’t eaten in days. She did enjoy the meat, cheese, and sweets that were being offered but he had soon amassed enough for at least two meals.

She shot a questioning look at the man seated across from her, he had a kind face, but he shrugged back, obviously just as confused.

She decided not to question it and began to eat what she could of the mean in front of her. After some time, no longer hungry, she began to watch the others as they laughed and talked among themselves. She had never felt at home here,and watching everyone else with someone who cared for them hurt, especially today. 

She sometimes very much missed having parents who loved her, though she didn't often let her mind dwell on it.

“You aren’t eating,” her husband’s voice was quiet, whispered just loudly enough for her to hear. His lips brushed her ear and sent a wave of unfamiliar heat through her body.

She ran her the tip of her tongue over her lips, desperate to wet what had suddenly gone dry.

“I am, my lord, you’ve just given me far too much.” She turned to toward him and found his face very close to hers. His eyes were brown, she realized dimly, and looking at her now in a way that she didn’t understand.

The heat rolled through her again.

He picked up a piece of cheese and held it to her lips until she parted them obediently. He placed it gently on her tongue. “Perhaps, but I would prefer that you eat what you can. It’s going to be a long night and I don’t want you to get hungry.”

The words washed over her like cold water, and her smile faded. Somehow, in the middle of worrying about all of the other events of today. she had forgotten.

He would bed her today, to consummate the marriage.

Her stomach rolled at the thought. What exactly that meant she did not know, but she had heard other ladies whispering of pain and the burden of their wifely duties.

She snuck a glance at him and found him watching her, so she placed another bite of cheese in her mouth before taking a rather large gulp of wine from her cup.

The other guests got louder as the meal passed. It seemed that everyone was enjoying the feast, but all of Rey’s attention was focused on Lord Ren.

He was spending more time watching her than eating, though he was trying to do so surreptitiously.

After several more minutes of watching her pretend to eat, he seemed to make up his mind about something.

He stood up and the room fell silent.

Her cheeks flamed as everyone stared at them.

“The lady is tired,” he announced, “and I am taking her to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited about this story. It let's me write Rey a little bit differently and I think it's fun to see her so happy and bubbly. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. I enjoy the validation that kudos and comments provide for me, so have mercy and send a little love!


	2. The Consummation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every right implies a responsibility; Every opportunity, an obligation; Every possession, a duty- John D. Rockefeller

Every right implies a responsibility; Every opportunity, an obligation; Every possession, a duty- John D. Rockefeller

Lord Ren had been in a foul mood by the time he arrived at the home of the detested Palpatines to pick up his bride. He didn’t _want_ a bride to begin with, had never wanted a bride, and was extremely inconvenienced by the marriage that had been arranged for him at lady’s birth. He had already reached the age of 10 and the idea of his eventual marriage to someone who was a literal babe in the cradle had been very upsetting.

He had delayed as long as possible in actually making it official, but there were only so many wars to be fought and he had already fought them. Primarily to avoid having to marry _her_.

The idea of being run through with a broadsword or having boiling oil poured on his head seemed immensely preferable to having to bed a Palpatine. The idea of having to bed her often enough to actually produce the required heir from the wench was simply unfathomable.

She had finally reached the age of twenty and it couldn’t be put off any longer. His father had unceremoniously informed him that his failure to do his duty had put them on the verge of all-out war. The wench’s haggard old grandfather had taken offense to his reluctance to carry through with the wedding.

He had saddled up a horse and set off with a few men to go and collect the girl. If she was reasonably healthy and not barren, he could have her carrying the first potential heir in only a few months. If, God willing, she produced a boy, he could be free to deposit her and the babe at his parent’s home indefinitely while he returned to his usual pursuits without her.

Those pursuits were quite distracting, and he had, naturally, been late the literal wedding itself. Several unfortunate and unforeseen events, including a horse with a thrown shoe and an unplanned night with a wanton tavern maid, had delayed his arrival until he rode through the gates after the wedding should have already been completed.

If he expected an angry reception from Lord Sidious, the head of house Palpatine and his bride’s grandfather, he was to be surprised. The old man just seemed pleased that he had finally shown up at all.

Lord Sidious had led him into the great hall as the other guests and his own men had begun to head to the chapel. He was promised a look at the bride, one last chance to call of the marriage if he deemed her unsuitable, a euphemism which was often used to mean that the groom doubted his ability to consummate the marriage due the lady’s unfortunate features.

The girl was a Palpatine, he fully expected her looks to be entirely unacceptable, but he had held off on making the judgment so long that she was past the usual marriageable age. If he rejected her, she would likely never find a replacement, and her grandfather was certain to wage war against them.

He looked around, trying to hide his impatience and general irritability as he searched the face of each lady that walked past, looking for some resemblance to the wrinkled man beside him but finding none.

When he finally spotted her, she was standing at one of the entrances to the hall, having obviously just come down the stairs. She had a knight escorting her and a bouquet of colorful flowers in one hand. Clearly the bride, then.

The dress she was wearing was heavy gold brocade fabric with extra length in the sleeves. Palpatine had dressed her up nicely. A predictable show of wealth and power, but also designed to have the girl look her best.

He need not have bothered. She had a slight build and a delicate face with a pert nose and high cheekbones. Her hair was very long and even in the low light of the hall he could see the shine of the red in her tresses.

He frowned. She was very pretty and nothing like he expected.

He knew the exact moment that she saw him. She froze and quickly looked him over from head to toe and back again. It was brazen, but he forgot about his initial insult when a bright and joyous smile slowly spread across her face.

Now it was his turn to slowly look her over. Was there something wrong with the girl? There was no reason for her to be smiling at him in that manner.

She continued to smile at him through the whole wedding. It was even more breathtaking when her grandfather placed her hand in his in front of the priest. Standing so close to her he could see the freckles that dotted her nose and her cheeks. He couldn’t quite decide if her eyes were blue or gray, but they were alive with happiness.

It shifted something inside him to see her looking at him with none of the anger of the hostility he had expected. She was just so small, so delicate and vulnerable. His irritation had fled, and in its wake had been left a strong desire to possess and protect her.

He didn’t really understand it, but he couldn’t deny it.

His fingers shook when he pushed the ring into her finger. Her hands looked so fragile that he was suddenly afraid he might break her, and he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

After the vows were said and they had returned to the great hall for the overdue wedding feast, he sat her beside him at the table. Frowning again when she started nibbling at the food on her plate. Not enough, he knew. How did anyone survive on that?

So, he piled more food on her plate until he was certain it was enough to feed even himself, and then looked at it in satisfaction. Now, she wouldn’t be hungry.

She was smiling at him again, though this time she looked at bit puzzled by his actions.

He muttered a quick excuse and she accepted it readily enough. She seemed to have a pleasant disposition and an easy manner that he found very charming.

He was surprised that no one had come to congratulate her. No one had come to speak to her at all, in fact. Even her grandfather had not uttered one word to the girl since they had been together in the hall.

It was strange to him. He had a small family, but they were close and affectionate with each other. The lack of companionship didn’t seem to bother her, and she didn’t even bother to look around as though she expected anyone to notice her.

There was nothing that would please him as much as taking her away from here, he decided. As soon as possible. He would leave tonight if he could, but the roads weren’t safe and, he remembered suddenly, the wedding wouldn’t be official until after the consummation.

He would have to bed her before he would be allowed to take her anywhere.

Not that he minded, at all. He snuck a quick look at her as she picked at the food on her plate. Suddenly being a husband, the act that he had dreaded most of his life, didn’t seem as bad as he had always feared.

After a few more minutes, when he was sure that she had enough to eat, he stood up and silence filled the room. He announced his intent to take his new wife to bed and ushered her out of the room as quickly as possible, before the ribald jokes or jeering looks had the chance to embarrass her.

He realized when he reached the stairs that he had no idea where he was going. His late arrival had not allowed him the luxury of having a room readied for him the night before.

He hesitated at the top of the stairs, painfully aware of how ridiculous he must look, and she swept past him, setting a hand on his arm as she did so.

She led him directly to a room on the right side of the dark hallway. He assumed it was the room that had been set aside for his use, until she opened the door and stepped through herself.

He glanced around at the bedchamber and realized it was clearly well lived in with many small feminine touches. Her chambers, he realized uncomfortably.

The room was small and warmer than the hall downstairs due to the fire glowing brightly in the hearth. He should have gone to his own room first and given them both time to change into their nightclothes. She would probably have preferred to do that privately.

She turned and looked at him and seemed to realize all at once that she had brought him straight to her bedchamber.

“I wasn’t sure which room they prepared for you,” she explained. “You can wait here, while I find a servant to ask. I didn’t want to see anyone else in the hallway."

She had been embarrassed, then, by the way everyone had behaved, and she had been more concerned with hiding than she had been with where she was going.

“It’s not necessary,” he said, deciding on the spot that he didn’t want to wait for her to track down a servant and go through the entire process of leaving only to have to return. “I would only to return here shortly anyway.”

She looked away and he frowned at the pink in her cheeks. Was she so uncomfortable with even the vaguest mention of the activities of a wedding night? He realized he had no experience with virgin brides and no idea how much, if anything, she had been told about what to expect.

He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable himself at the realization that this night would influence all of their nights to come. She was so fragile, so small, if he hurt her, she may never forgive him.

“Do you know what happens now?” His voice was still gruff and sounded harsher than he intended, and she only shook her head in answer.

“Ah, were there no women to prepare you for this?” It was unusual for a woman to be sent to her wedding night with no idea of what to expect, even though most women of nobility were kept sheltered.

She shook her head again. “I have no family here beyond my grandfather. My companionship consisted only of my nursemaid when I was a child, and she died several years ago. She was never replaced.”

“You have no personal servants? No one to tend to you or help you dress?” The idea of it was absurd. Her grandfather clearly had enough money to provide her with at least basic assistance and support, yet she seemed to have been kept entirely isolated and given no instruction or preparation for this marriage, despite his obviously overdue arrival.

He had more questions, but he would deal with her apparent mistreatment when he had her safely at his own home. She would never lack for anything again, he decided quickly, angry with himself for leaving her here for years longer than he should have.

“Well, …the first thing you should do is change into your nightdress.” He really wasn’t sure if that was the first thing she should do. He would like to see her, but it might offend her modesty and he didn’t want to upset her.

When she hesitated, nibbling nervously at her bottom lip, his suspicions were confirmed. “Could…could you turn around?” she asked.

He sighed, but turned to face the door as she changed, which she did with remarkable speed considering that she had to deal with so many buttons and layers without the help of a maid.

The rustling of her fabric ceased, and the room fell silent for several long moments. Her voice when she finally spoke was quiet behind him, nearly a whisper. “You can turn around now.”

He sucked in a breath at the sight of her. The firelight shined off her hair, which was so long it hung in soft waves nearly to her waist. Her cheeks were still pink, and she looked terribly innocent standing in the center of the room in a floor length white nightdress that buttoned nearly to her throat.

Nothing about it had been designed for a man’s gaze, she was covered as well as she had been in her gown, but the simple design seemed to only enhance the beauty of her face and the lighter fabric clung to her curves, allowing him to see the subtle shape of her breasts and the roundness of her thighs.

He looked away, not wanting her to see his reaction on his face. He had heard the stories from the other lords, these sheltered ladies had very delicate sensibilities and were easily frightened and disgusted. He needed to proceed carefully..

“You can get into the bed,” he said, and he didn’t look at her again until she had scrambled in and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

She was watching at him with nervous curiosity as he began to take off his own clothes. He hadn’t even taken the time before now to remove the armor he had traveled in, so the process took him some time.

He expected her to look away far sooner than she did, but she watched with apparent interest for several minutes as he set armor and boots aside.

It wasn’t until she realized he was pulling up the fabric that would leave his stomach and chest bare that she turned her face to the fire dancing in the hearth and, even then, she snuck another quick glance a few moments later that had her eyes widening in surprise.

Was that another smile that she was trying to hide? Or was he imagining it because he hoped that she found him attractive?

He considered removing all of his clothing before getting into bed, but thought that it might be easier for her to relax if she knew he wasn’t entirely naked beside her so he lifted the blanket and laid down without removing the lower portion of his undergarments.

She turned back to look at him, her face now only a few inches away from his own. Her hair was fanned out across her pillow behind her head and he reached one hand out to caress a single, soft lock of it between his fingers.

From this close to her he could count the freckles on her nose and knew that he would soon have the patterns on her skin burned into his memory.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Now I’m going to kiss you,” he watched her closely for signs of fear of revulsion and continued when he saw none, “and I would like to touch you.”

She nodded, though she still held tightly to the blanket.

He didn’t try to take it from her, leaning down instead to place a soft kiss to the skin of her cheek. Some of the nervousness left her eyes and her knuckles on the blanket became a bit less white. He was determined to go slowly and not give her any cause for fear or upset.

She didn’t pull away when he moved to kiss her other cheek, or the corner of her mouth, and by the time he pressed his lips to hers she had relaxed enough for him to gently take the blanket from her hands and slide his arm around her.

She shivered as his hand grabbed her hip and he realized that no one had ever touched her with even that much intimacy. She was trying to be brave, and he admired her for it, but he didn’t want to push her too quickly.

He only had to get through tonight without frightening her and then he would have time to help her adjust to all of this.

He tugged up the hem of nightdress and bunched it up around her waist. She jumped slightly when his palm ran over the bare skin of her hip and thigh, but he soothed her with another quick kiss.

“I need to move onto you,” he explained, though she looked puzzled, she didn’t object when he shifted his weight to roll onto her. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and supported most of his weight on his forearms.

He was afraid he was going to crush her, because she was so small beneath him.

He drew her knee up to make more room her him to settle between her thighs and she pressed her hands against his chest, the first sign of resistance that she had given.

“It will be alright,” he told her, looking her in the eye so she would know he meant it. She relaxed her hands and he kissed her again, gently rubbing his tongue against her lips until she parted them under the pressure, and then slipping it inside.

She was hesitant at first, but he was softly insistent, and she was soon shyly kissing him back and her hands were lightly settled onto his waist.

The feeling of her fingers on his bare skin was more erotic than it had any right to be and he struggled against the urge to tug her nightdress up farther and expose her skin to his own.

He kissed her until she was soft, relaxed and pliant beneath him, a direct contrast to his own tense muscles and raging desires, before he reached down to free his aching flesh from the restraint of his clothing.

He spared a quick prayer that she was wet and distracted enough that it would ease his entrance before he pushed against her opening.

She was, indeed, blessedly wet, but tighter than he imagined and there was no way for him to slide into her smoothly. She pulled away from him, eyes wide with shock and betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered through clenched teeth, fighting against his body’s own needs as he eased into her slowly. She was shaking her head and a single tear slid down her cheek as he finally came to rest fully inside her.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered again, raining soft kisses on her cheeks and her nose. He was unprepared for the rush of regret and sympathy he felt. He wished there had been more time, that he had come sooner, so he could have eased her into being touched and not had to rush her through this night to get the consummation finished as he was required to do.

She gave a heartbreaking sniffle, but a tentative smile soon followed. “It wasn’t as bad I feared it would be, my lord, but I must confess that I hope we don’t need to repeat it often for me to provide you with your heir.”

She looked at him expectantly and he realized that she thought the deed was done.

He shook his head slowly, returning her smile with a rare one of his own. “We’re not done, yet. But I promise the worst is over.”

She frowned, clearly disappointed, but then nodded briskly, seemingly bracing herself for further discomfort.

He chuckled at her attempt at putting on a brave face and bent his head to nip lightly at her bottom lip. She surprised him again by lifting her face into the kiss eagerly. Her temporary discomfort hadn’t ruined her curiosity or slowly emerging enjoyment of him, and he was grateful.

He began to move inside her, being careful to not move too quickly or too forcefully, and resisting the desires raging inside him that demanded more.

She was hot and tight around him and as he moved, and her body relaxed to accommodate him, she became increasingly wet.

He froze when he heard her first soft moan, sure he had hurt her despite his efforts, but when he pulled his head back to look at her face, she was looked at him with hooded eyes and parted lips. Relief flooded through him at the realization that the sounds she was making were from pleasure and not pain.

He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the delicate flowery smell of her skin and her hair, as a few more thrusts allowed him to spill his seed inside her.

It should have been satisfying, but it left him feeling vaguely empty and wanting more.

When he rolled to lay beside her, he noticed that she was looking at him with a small frown, as though she shared his disappointment.

He pulled her into his arms and sighed. He had done exactly what gentle husbands were supposed to do and yet he felt as though he had failed them both somehow. She clearly wasn’t a typical lady of the kind he had been prepared to deal with and he had no plan for what to with her now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding nights in arranged marriages are so often awkward and disappointing. I am posting this and running because it is not the hot sex that I know you were all hoping for but I promise they will get there!


	3. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises are only as strong as the person who gives them – Stephen Richards

Rey was sick and sore and crankier than she ever remembered being in her life. She hated her new husband with the fire of a thousand suns and she hoped vehemently that he got thrown off his horse or stabbed by some passing robber.

The latter option was looking much more likely with each moment that crept by since they were still on the roads as darkness pressed in around them.

He had woken her before the sun had even begun to rise to pack up whatever belongings she needed and prepare to leave. She hadn’t been exactly ready, since most grooms stayed at the new bride’s home for several days of celebration, but she hadn’t complained. She had nothing that she would miss at her grandfather’s home, so the anxiety of the unknown was less frightening than it would have been otherwise.

They had loaded her dresses and the few meager personal belongings that she cared about into a carriage and left her childhood home behind at dawn.

She was already sore between the thighs from last night’s consummation and her body did not thank her for the slow and torturous realities of long-distance travel. She was bounced around the inside of the carriage with every single one of the many bumps in the road and before long she was battered and bruised and feeling particularly resentful of every one of her travel companions, none of whom were riding inside the bouncing carriage.

Lord Ren and all of his men were riding along side, sitting high and free in the saddle while watching the road for roving bands of robbers.

She had been alone for hours, barely stopping at all other than to eat a hasty meal, during which her husband had ignored her entirely.

She shouldn’t have been hurt and surprised that he had barely spoken to her at all since he had nudged her awake, but she was. She had expected to wake still wrapped in his arms and been bitterly disappointed to find him already awake and dressed when she opened her eyes to his persistent shaking.

It was becoming clearer to her as the day progressed and he ignored her, that he intended to go on as he had before married her.

She sat alone in the carriage and stewed in her negative thoughts as the darkness around them deepened.

She had thought for a few moments last night that perhaps this marriage might have meant more than simply transferring her lonely existence from one man’s home to the next. He had been gentle and kind to her and once the initial discomfort had faded it actually begun to be quite enjoyable.

It was that tenderness that had given her hope, and the way that he had looked at her with concern and protectiveness.

She had been a fool, obviously, and she had decided to hate him for making her hope when there was no real hope to be found.

The carriage abruptly stopped bouncing and she had a fleeting moment of fear that her vindictive thoughts had actually summoned a group of robbers, but a peak out the window told her that they had arrived at a roadside inn.

Finally, she could get out of this carriage and into a bed.

Lord Ren opened the door for her, reaching a hand up to steady her as she climbed down. His hand was warm and rough on hers and she held tight to his fingers. It was harder to hate him when she was this close to him and she could feel his skin and see the warm brown of his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly. “You look pale.”

She snorted inelegantly, causing him to lift a brow at her in surprise. “I am fine, my lord. Thank you for asking so late in the day, when all opportunities to increase my comfort have passed.”

His lips pressed into a thin line and she realized perhaps too late that she shouldn’t have provoked him. She knew little about his temperament or his reactions when he was angry. She had seen plenty of knights who were brutes at any minor inconvenience, striking horses, women, and children with astonishing aggression.

Her breath froze in her chest as she waited for his response.

“My apologies. I’m not accustomed to traveling with ladies. I should have asked sooner about your comfort.”

She blinked at him, bemused by the sudden shift in her emotions as her anger vanished in the face of his apology.

“I’ll get you settled into a room and have dinner brought up for you,” he continued as they walked up the steps to the inn.

She nodded, realizing for the first time how hungry she was.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly as they walked inside. The tavern area was loud and crowded, and they paused while he searched for the innkeeper in the mass of bodies and noise. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I am not used to travel, and it has soured my mood.”

“Have you never been far from your home?” he asked. He turned to look at her with greater sympathy, seeming to realize belatedly how uncomfortable she had really been in the unfamiliar confines of the carriage.

Before she had the chance to answer him, a large, heavyset man with a booming voice approached through the crowd. “Lord Ren! Returning so soon?”

Her husband smiled a greeting at what she assumed was the innkeeper. “I am! I have acquired a bride and can now return to the comfort of my own home. But first, I am afraid I need to make use of your hospitality for another night!”

Rey frowned at his dismissive description of their marriage, but before she could say anything, the innkeeper was smiling at her. “My lady, welcome!”

“The lady is tired. Is there a room available? Anything to eat? We would be grateful if dinner could be delivered upstairs so she can get some rest.”

The innkeeper nodded. “Of course, my lord. The same room you had last time, top of the stairs to the left, you remember? I’ll have Meg bring up stew and wine and send someone out to take care of your men and horses.”

He led her through the crowd to the staircase and people parted to let him pass.

Everyone recognized nobility when they saw it.

The indifferent expression, the way he held himself and he slight tilt of his head that had him looking down on everyone around him. He had a commanding sort of air about him, the kind that everyone recognized as belonging to man that was used to getting his way.

The tavern maid, a very pretty girl with blonde hair and more of her chest exposed than Rey had ever seen before, watched them pass with narrowed eyes.

Rey turned to ask her husband if had noticed the girl’s strange behavior, but he was already sweeping her up the stairs at such a rapid pace that the girl was behind them before she could even begin her question.

The bedchamber was small but there was a table for eating, a screen for privacy when changing, and a bed. It was more than enough for her to be thrilled after the long day she had endured, and she sank into one of the chairs with a sigh.

Sitting on a surface that wasn’t rocking and swaying beneath her was heavenly.

He sat across the table from her, looking at her with concern.

“We still have several days of travel before we arrive at my home,” he began and she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“I fear I don’t make a very good travel companion,” she lamented.

He shook his head ruefully. “You do not,” he admitted, “though it is mostly due to your own personal discomfort. I had expected for you to inform me if you were having difficulty.”

“My grandfather did not allow for complaints, no matter how severe the discomfort. I do not complain often.” She shrugged, wincing at the soreness of her muscles.

His frown was particularly thunderous at those words. “You will complain now,” he informed her. “How can accommodations be made for your comfort otherwise? I have a duty to provide for you.”

“As did my grandfather,” she reminded him with a weak smile.

“Yes, he did. One which he seems to have failed at miserably. There is more to raising a child than providing food and clothing. I assumed even Lord Palpatine was aware of that much. It seems my faith was in error.”

He was genuinely angry she realized and wondered what kind of family he had that he felt that way. What else had they provided for him, beyond the necessities?

There was knock at the door and he stood quickly to open it.

She watched with interest as he crossed the room. She still couldn’t believe her luck in getting husband that was so nice to look at, and beyond that he was a fascinating man of many contradictions. He seemed unaccustomed to having to worry about anyone but himself but beneath that gruff awkwardness was a deep sense of concern and responsibility.

He returned a few moments later with the tavern maid from downstairs who was carrying a tray of food and wine.

Rey’s stomach rumbled at the rich smell of stew that was wafting through the air and she was grateful for his foresight in having the meal brought to their room. Her hands were shaking in her lap and the idea of trying to level a spoon in front of so many prying eyes was suddenly daunting.

“It’s good to see you back again so soon, my Lord,” the girl was saying as she set the tray down on the table. Rey was reaching for the spoon, but her hand froze in midair when the girl leaned in close to Lord Ren, voice dropping to a near whisper.

“It was nice to have you here last time.”

Lord Ren shifted uncomfortably as the girl shot him a sultry look from beneath her lashes. “Erm, yes. It was.” He gestured to the door, a clear indication that the girl’s services were no longer required, but she lingered, skimming an insolent look over Rey as she sat at the table.

Rey stood, burying her shaking hands in the folds of her skirt. It was considered normal for unmarried, and nearly always even married, men to have their flirtations and more with other women, but it was _not_ normal for their wives to be confronted with the evidence of it over their dinner.

She might have been often neglected but she was still the Lady Rey of House Palpatine, and she would not be blatantly disrespected by a tavern maid.

“You will leave this room, wench, and not return,” she said, and her voice was as cold and sharp as steel. “We require no more of your services. You will explain to the innkeeper that you have offended the lady in this room and that he should send someone else in your place when it is time to collect the tray.”

The maid shrank perceptibly under the full force of Rey’s blistering stare but shot a quick glace at Lord Ren before speaking, “I’m the only one working tonight, my lady.” There was a note of defiance in her tone but if she thought that Lord Ren would save her, or the circumstances undercut Rey’s determination, she was wrong on both counts.

“Then I suggest he come and fetch it himself if he does not want to incur the wrath of Lord Palpatine.”

“Lord Palpatine?” The color drained from the girl’s face.

“My grandfather,” Rey clarified. “You would do well to remember your place and mind your tongue in the future. Not every noblewoman is as kind as I have been to you. Now go! And do not return.”

The girl scrambled for the door and Rey resumed her seat without looking at her husband.

“Well, that was quite the display,” Ren muttered, sitting across from her again and reaching for his own spoon. “Do you have any idea how frightened she is now? Lord Palpatine’s reputation for cruelty to those who have displeased him is well known through the countryside.”

Rey raised a brow. “I’m aware. I may have been dismally sheltered, but one thing that my grandfather insisted that I learn was the strength of his name and that I have the ability to use it.”

“You could have used my name. You aren’t a Palpatine anymore. You’re Lady Ren now, remember?” He seemed a bit hurt that she had reached for someone else’s protection, especially since he had deemed Palpatine’s efforts inadequate.

She shot him a bitter look over her bowl. “She seemed familiar enough with House Solo. You were hardly intimidating.”

She watched in amusement as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Yes, well…” He couldn’t seem to find anything to say to excuse it, so he settled for a quiet, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of the potential complications of any of this.”

Rey reached for her wine, frowning at him over the rim of her cup. “It’s not exactly a secret that you didn’t want to marry me, my lord. If you wanted this union, you would have come years ago.”

He didn’t deny it and she hadn’t expected him to. She preferred his honesty and he seemed like the kind of man to give it, even if was uncomfortable.

“I didn’t want it,” he admitted. “There is a long history of betrayal and deceit between our families, and I expected a bride that hated me and was determined to bring me only misery.”

She nodded. “I wasn’t disappointed in the time it took for you to come for me. My grandfather told me nothing at all about you. I didn’t even know your age before you arrived.”

“Ah, that explains the smiling then. You were afraid I would be old and shriveled?”

She laughed, “I was, yes, and terribly relieved that you were not. Were your expectations met?”

“Exceeded,” he said, reaching to give her hand a squeeze. “You are far lovelier in in face and demeanor than I had dared hope for.”

She felt the thrill of that run through her and smiled at him. He was pleased with her and she with him. There was not reason for him to be seeking out tavern maids for company any longer. She didn’t want to imagine him doing any of the things they had done last night with anyone but her.

They seemed to get along well enough when she wasn’t worried about him abandoning her to be essentially alone again.

“I don’t want you to seek anyone else’s bed but my own,” she announced suddenly, surprising them both. It was the usual custom to for married women to look the other way at a husband’s indiscretions, and she certainly should not have ever mentioned it him in such a forthright and demanding manner.

“You don’t?” He was clearly at a loss for what to say to her.

“I don’t,” she repeated, more firmly this time. “I don’t want you doing _that_ with women like her. And I don’t want you to take me to your home and then leave me there alone, either,” she added in a rush. “I’ve had enough of being alone.”

“I see,” he was contemplating her words. He hadn’t dismissed her ideas immediately, which gave her a quick glimmer of hope. “That’s highly unusual. There are…certain things that women like that are able to provide that good husbands do not ask from their wives. I understand that you weren’t made aware of these things because your grandfather didn’t see properly to your education in these delicate matters.”

He was watching her seriously as he spoke, but her frown was deepening with each word. “I can do those things,” she insisted.

He shook his head. “No, you cannot. It is not the way a man is supposed to treat his wife. Noble women are delicate and easily upset. I do not want to cause you any distress.”

“I was not distressed last night,” she said but corrected quickly at the look on his face. “Well, not very much and only at the beginning. By the end I quite liked it.”

He sighed, but she could tell that he was intrigued when she said that she had enjoyed their previous union.

“There is a way for us to find out,” she said, glancing quickly at the bed.

He followed the path of her gaze and she saw the heat in his eyes when they returned to look at her face. He swallowed hard before he answered her. She waited in silence for several minutes as he wrestled with the decision. 

“You will promise to complain if it is too much for you or if you are upset in any way, do you understand?”

“I promise, my Lord.”


	4. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s nothing better than discovering, to your own astonishment, what you’re meant to do. It’s like falling in love- Mike Nichols

Lord Ren stared at his young bride from across the table. He had not been a very good husband to her so far, with today’s failures and embarrassments only adding to the harm he had caused by delaying the marriage to begin with.

Everything he knew about wives indicated that what she had proposed would only add to his problems, but she was looking at him with a calm determination that was unsettling.

She had promised to tell him if he upset her, so when she discovered that she was too delicate for that type of activity he would let her keep her pride and never mention it again.

She picked up her glass and took a deep drink of her wine. “How shall we begin, my lord?”

He took a slow steadying breath and stood up from the table, walking around it to stand in front of her. He held out a hand and she placed her own fingers against his palm without hesitation.

“Stand up,” he urged, giving her hand an encouraging tug. When she did, it brought her in close proximity to his body and she had to tip her head back to look at him. There were gold flecks in her eyes and a dusting of light freckles on her nose. Her lips were softly parted, and her cheeks were already a rosy shade of pink.

He brought his hand up to rub his thumb gently across her lips before dipping his head to place a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Turn around,” he instructed, and she obeyed quickly, peaking at him over her shoulder with innocent curiosity.

The length of her red hair was heavy as he gathered it in his hand to lay it over her shoulder. It hung nearly to her waist and prevented him from accessing the laces that held her dress closed otherwise.

She turned to look at him again when she realized that he was quickly unlacing her, but she didn’t protest. Her travel gown was not as heavy or ornate as her wedding apparel, but the blue fabric was still stiff and thick.

He loosened the gown enough to push the heavy top layer off her arms and down over her hips until it pooled at her feet.

“Step out of it,” he whispered, leaning down so that the words were breathed quietly as his lips brushed her ear.

He ran a hand down her arm, now covered only by the thin, white cotton of her chemise, grasping her fingers to help steady her as she stepped out of the outer layer of her dress and kick it aside.

She took a deep breath when he began to lift the fabric of her chemise, and his fingers were soon brushing the bare skin beneath as he gathered it in his hands. She lifted her arms and he tugged it over her head, drooping it in a heap at their feet. She crossed her arms over her chest, shy about the sudden exposure of her breasts.

He let her keep that bit of modesty as he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see the tension in her body as she stood with her back to him, dressed now only in her stockings.

“Would you like to stop?” he asked, letting his fingers drift softly drift down her arm.

She shook her head vehemently, fully turning this time to face him, an argument clearly already forming in her mind as her face screwed up into a furious frown.

He placed a finger against her lips before she could begin, shocking her into continuing her silence.

“I will not stop unless you ask me to. I only wanted to make sure you were still wished to continue,” he said.

She weighed his words, eyes narrowed in lingering indignation, before she nodded, and turned back around without further complaint.

His lips twitched in amusement. She was far more spirited that he had expected, and he was discovering that he liked it.

He slid a finger into the top of her stockings, running it slowly around the edge, circling the skin of her waist before he began to slowly roll them down her hips. He bent to follow as he pushed them down the length of her legs, taking his time and letting his fingers run over the skin of thighs and down to her calves. She lifted one foot at a time for him to remove them.

He knelt for a moment with his head pressed against her hip, giving them both time to adjust to her nudity.

She startled him when she reached down and gingerly touched his hair. He looked up at her, and she gave him a soft encouraging smile.

He stood up again, turning her to face him and pulling her in press a kiss to her forehead. “Go, get in bed. I’ll join you in a moment.”

She stayed, not taking a single step to do as he bid her. “You undressed me, my lord. Should I not do the same for you?”

He hesitated but he had promised to let her do what she was willing, so he nodded. “If you wish to,” he said.

She ran her eyes over him, forgetting her own discomfort at her nudity as she tried to determine where to begin removing his armor.

“Let me do this first part,” he said, quickly divesting himself of the heavy protective layer and his heavy boots as she watched with fascinated eyes.

She was more eager than he expected when he returned to stand before her, and her fingers quickly hooked under the hem of his shirt. She was much too short to successfully remove it herself, but she helped as much as she was able. Shamelessly letting her hands brush against the skin of his chest and his stomach as she lifted the fabric. She stretched up on her tiptoes, pressing in close enough for breasts to press against his chest, as he lifted it the rest of the way over his head.

The candlelight danced across her face as she stepped back, clutching the shirt to her chest in triumph. She was looking him over, clearly enjoying the sight of his bare skin, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster as he began to hope for the first time that she might actually enjoy more than the gentle delicate union he felt obligated to give her.

She didn’t object when he reached to take the shirt from her and toss it aside, nor when he let his eyes finally roam over her. Her cheeks flamed but she stood defiantly and did not lift her hands to cover herself.

He stepped forward and she lifted her arms to welcome him as he reached for her. Her hands settled on his chest and his on her waist as she lifted her face to accept his kiss.

She remembered what he had taught her the night before and her lips parted readily. She didn’t flinch away when he brushed her tongue with his own and her hand slid up to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck.

She shuddered when he stroked her hip, her stomach, her breast and a small moan escaped her when his thumb caressed her nipple.

Her body arched toward him, inviting him to take more and he was happy to comply. He shifted her closer, cupping the round cheek of her behind in his and massaging it as she pressed closer to him.

Her shyness melted away as she clung to him with mounting desire and he finally bent to wrap his arms around her and lift her off her feet.

She mewled in surprise, but allowed him to carry her to the bed, where he laid her down softly. She stared up at him, her eyes dark with heat and desire.

He could have taken her then and he knew it, but he wanted more, wanted to give her more. If she was going to allow this type of relationship to exist between them, he wanted them to have it all.

He laid beside her and confusion clouded her features. He grabbed her chin gently, pressing a hot, hard kiss to her mouth. “This will be different than last night,” he reminded her. “I would like to touch you and allow you to touch me if you wish.”

She ran her eyes over him again and shot him a mischievous grin.

He couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at his own mouth and tapped her lightly on the end of the nose with his finger. “Greedy minx already,” he chuckled. “I am pleased that you are not ashamed of these things. I don’t want you to ever feel that you ought to change that.”

Her reaction to him was a blessing, one he was beginning to suspect was a byproduct of her isolation from the shaming influence of other ladies.

He didn’t want her attitude to change when he took her home and exposed her to the other ladies of society and their stiff manners.

“I promise to never stop looking at you and touching you, my lord, though it is a sore trial to do so,” she quipped.

He laughed aloud this time, rolling up on his elbow to lean down and kiss her again, more thoroughly this time until she clung to him and he had to remind himself that he promised her more than a rushed joining.

If he worried that she would be disgusted by his attention, he realized quickly how wrong he had been. Now that she knew what to expect and had some knowledge of the possible pleasure of the act, she embraced each stroke of his hand and lingering press of his lips with unabashed enthusiasm.

Even more surprising, she revealed no sense of reluctance to touch him in turn. He had left his own bottoms on so has not to frighten her with the sight of his body, which had long since become hard and aching, but she her hands and mouth freely over his exposed skin.

She let her knees part easily when he nudged them open with his hand and he ran his fingers up her inner thigh, making her shudder from the unfamiliarity of the sensation.

Her hands tightened on his arms when he slid his fingers into the wet heat of her center, parting the folds and pressing lightly with his thumb on the tight bud that he knew would amplify her pleasure.

When he was certain she was relaxed and comfortable with the way he was touching her, he slipped a finger gently inside her. She moaned softly and pressed up into his hand.

He worked his finger in her, increasing her arousal and her wetness, until he was able to slide a second finger in beside the first. She was quivering around his fingers and drenching his hand as she rocked her hips against him.

He watched her in wonder, knowing he would do anything to see her exactly like this as often as possible. There would be other things he had to do in his life but being with her and bringing her pleasure would certainly be the one he enjoyed the most.

When he rolled onto her, she clutched at him greedily, pulling him in and shifting her hips to accept him as he finally pushed deep inside her. She clenched around him and he buried his face in her hair as waves of exquisite sensation rolled through him.

She nipped lightly at his bottom lip and wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to thrust into her. He began to move slowly and gently, because she was still so small and delicate beneath him, but her whines turned petulant and her hips worked against him with greater frustration.

He watched her face as he began to press into her more forcefully, increasing the pace of his rhythm until her head tipped back on a deep and satisfied moan that shot heat straight through him.

He steadied her with a hand on her hip and she clung to him, arms and legs twined around him as she held him close.

He felt her body begin to squeeze and flutter around him as her moans became louder. He knew there was a very good chance that the entire inn could hear her, but no one would dare say a word to them about it, so he did nothing to stifle the glorious sounds she made as she reached her peak.

It was a thrilling stroke to his ego. Let them listen and know that she was satisfied with her husband.

The force of his own need couldn’t be held back any longer and held her tightly as he pressed himself as deeply inside her as possible, spilling his seed into her with a grunt of incredible pleasure and triumph.

He pulled her with him as he rolled off her, so that she lay with her head on his chest as his breathing returned to normal and he drifted in contented half sleep.

She shifted slighting, making little hums and sighs.

“What is wrong?” he asked finally, because she clearly had something to say but was too uncomfortable to say it.

“I was just wondering, my lord, when we would be able to do it again?”

He peaked an eye open to look at her and found her staring at him with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She really was a greedy minx.

It was going to be a very long night.


	5. The Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home should be an anchor, a port in a storm, a refuge, a happy place to dwell, a place where we are loved and where we can love- Marvin J. Ashton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I had extra stuff come up irl this past week and I added a oneshot into my writing rotation. If you have a thing for Priest!Ben and inappropriate use of a confessional booth, that can be found here https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762119)

Rey woke slowly, the morning sun streaming in through the windows alerting her to the fact that they had overslept again.

She had always been an early riser, but Lord Ren was a demanding husband, most often keeping her awake until the early morning hours with repeated love making. It had already added an extra day to their journey, but she was not foolish enough to complain.

She had nothing to complain about, truly. The maid at the inn where they had spent their first night had given her a very sullen and resentful look when they had descended the stairs late the following morning but Rey had given her only a quick glance, lifting her own chin in defiance.

She had quite won that contest, and the girl deserved no more of her time or consideration.

Her days has still been spent inside the miserable confines of the carriage, but she was relieved to find that her husband rode nearby for much of the day, and now remembered to check on her often.

This would be her last day of travel. This afternoon they would finally arrive at the home of his parents. He had his own holdings, he had explained, but he spent little time there and his parents were anxious to meet his new bride.

The thought sent nerves fluttering through her stomach like butterflies and she turned her face to bury it in her husband’s shoulder. He grunted in his sleep, rolling toward her, and throwing a heavy across her waist.

He really was a large man, intimidating in his size, but his face in the morning light was soft and relaxed. She ran a finger down the length of his nose and his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile.

Something inside her heart squeezed and she pulled her hand away quickly. She had learned her lesson long ago about attachments. She was an unlovable creature and it was enough that he had agreed to share her bed, to give her his body. She had demanded that, and he had agreed, there was no sense in being greedy and asking for more than he would give.

If she did, he might become annoyed and leave.

That was already a fear that had wrapped itself around her heart, and she would do what she could to see to it that it never came to pass.

She pressed a kiss to his lips. “It is well into the morning, my lord. We should wake now and prepare to leave.”

“Should we?” he asked lazily. “Is there nothing else that we could do instead? I am weary of travel.” He tightened his arm and pulled her in closer.

“We are nearly done with travel. Today is the day of your homecoming.” She poked him in the shoulder, but he was immovable.

“I am not eager to see home so soon, either. I am not ready to share you, little minx.”

She flushed with pleasure but cautioned herself against the hope she felt rising in her chest. He meant only passing flattery, she was sure.

She shifted, intent to stand and begin dressing, but he refused to relent his hold on her. “My lord,” she said in frustration, “you need to release me. I have to dress.”

“Ben,” he said, immediately stilling her useless pushing against his arm.

“My lord?”

“My name is Ben. Benjamin, but mother calls me Ben. You’re my wife. You should call me by my given name.” He was looking at her intently. He was always more serious than most, but there was something in his eyes made her shift uncomfortably.

“Of course, my lord…Ben,” she said softly.

His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened at the sound of his name and he rolled her beneath him in one smooth, swift motion, nudging her legs apart with his knee as he did so.

She welcomed him eagerly, quickly forgetting about her nerves and the rest of their journey as he slipped his tongue past her lips.

He was in no hurry this morning and let his hands drift over her lazily, gradually building a pleasant heat that let him slip into her without demand or desperation. He sighed softly against her lips and set a languid pace, stealing lingering kisses between soft brushes of his cheek against hers.

His hand came up to cup her cheek as he drove her over the edge into a deep, slow pleasure that left her slightly breathless.

He left her leave the bed a short time later, but he shot her quick assessing glances as she dressed, and she left the room feeling puzzled and insecure.

The rest of the journey passed very quickly, and Rey’s nervousness had reached intolerable levels by early afternoon.

The sounds of shouts and laughter soon echoed around the inside of the carriage, but she squeezed her eyes shut against the sight of Lord Ren reuniting with his family.

She had been happy enough to leave her grandfather’s home amidst idle daydreams that she would no longer be alone. Now that she that was soon to be confronted with the reality of his family, that possibility seemed far less likely.

They would be pleased to see him, but she was certain that they would be less pleased to see her. The marriage had ended hostilities between their families, but how would they react to a Palpatine in their midst?

The door opened but she refused to look, squeezing her eyes tighter and twisting her fingers together in her lap.

“Rey?” It was Ben’s voice, calm and quiet. “Are you ready?”

She peaked in his direction, reassured that his large frame filled the doorway, protecting her from prying eyes.

She shook her head, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes. “No, but it is time, nevertheless.”

“They will not be unkind to you,” he promised. “It is not in their nature, but even if it was, I wouldn’t allow it.”

She did not trust the nature of his family, but she did trust him. He held out his hand and she reached for it, squeezing tightly as he helped her down.

The courtyard was a mass of horses and curious onlookers. It seemed as though everyone who lived within a days’ journey had arrived to stare at her. Rey tipped her chin up instinctively, refusing to be cowed or intimidated.

Ben squeezed her hand before tucking it in his arm and leading her forward toward a man and woman that were watching them closely from the steps that lead to her new home.

The man was tall and though he looked much like Ben, his eyes were kind, full of humor, and lacked the serious intensity that Ben so often had. The woman was much shorter. A brunette with her hair in intricate braids. Her face looked less like her son’s, but in her eyes, Rey found Ben’s seriousness, his focus and determination.

She liked them both on sight, and she stiffened as he drew to a halt before them, fearing the rejection she was certain would follow.

“I would like to present to you the new Lady Ren. This is Rey.” They swept their eyes over her, assessing her in silence. “Rey, my mother and father. Han and Leia, the Lord and Lady of House Solo.”

Rey curtsied deeply, trying not to look at them too closely.

Leia sighed in relief. “I was more than half certain that you would try and get out of the marriage, Ben.” She walked down the steps and reached for Rey’s hands. “Instead you have brought home a young beauty. No resemblance to her grandfather, I see.”

Rey smiled, oddly comforted that the woman found no similarity.

“And such a smile,” Han said happily. “I assume Ben was on his best behavior?”

Rey giggled and shot her husband a fond look. “He has treated me well, my lord.”

“Good,” Han said, clapping Ben hard on the back and turning toward the door. “Have you eaten? We can have food brought to the table if our weary travelers are hungry.”

Leia tucked Rey’s arm in her own and guided her up the stairs, chattering happily about her plans now that her daughter-in-law had finally arrived. Rey glanced over her shoulder at Ben, but he merely smiled and winked. He was clearly not surprised at how quickly Leia had taken a liking to her.

Leia was well into discussing which room would be best suited for a nursery by the time the servants brought bread and cheese to the table.

“Oh, this is Rose!” Leia said enthusiastically as the nearest young girl set a tray on the table. “She is to be your ladies’ maid and assist you with anything you need. Your hair and dressing and other such things.”

Rose was a pretty girl, with dark hair and eyes. She gave Rey a shy smile and Rey returned it eagerly. “I’ve never had a maid before,” she admitted, “but if that is what the proper thing then I am happy to meet you, Rose!”

Leia frowned as Rose retreated back the kitchens. “You’ve never had a maid? Who has helped you dress and style your hair?”

In a very short time, with a series of astute questions, Leia had pulled enough information from her to have a thorough understanding of the life of loneliness and isolation that Rey had endured since the death of her parents.

She was obviously not pleased and turned to Ben, who had been sitting across the table from them, listening to their conversation. Whatever words she had contemplated seemed to die on her lips when she caught sight of her son’s face.

Rey realized he was staring at her with what could only be described as deep regret and sought to soothe him. “I am quite well, my lord. I was not anxious to be wed any more than you.”

Ben said nothing and the silence lingered as he wallowed in his guilt.

Han cleared his throat. “Well, kid, she’s here now. No harm done.” He smiled at her and Rey smiled back.

Perhaps Ben wasn’t the only one who had come home.


	6. The Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was exactly what I wanted, beautiful distraction- Maggie Stiefvater

It amazed him how quickly she blossomed. A few weeks of receiving regular attention and praise and the smile rarely ever left her lips.

She adjusted as seamlessly to life with his family as she had adjusted to warming his bed. It was impossible, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that God had made this woman just for him. So that she could be here, now, bringing happiness and laughter to his life.

Han and Leia were more than thrilled with the girl. She traded good natured quips with his father over breakfast, and often spent her afternoons with his mother, involved in some feminine activity that made his mind numb just thinking about it.

Today he had discovered them sewing a tapestry, and though his mother assured him proudly that her stitching was neat and tidy, he had fled before they could trap him in their womanly gossip.

She radiated happiness and contentment and she was a more enthusiastic lover than any he had ever experienced.

Marriage more than suited him, and it made him shifty and nervous. Men weren’t supposed to get emotional about their wives, despite the obvious affection his father had always given to his mother.

If he got too soft, too involved, with Rey, people would talk. They would see it as a weakness.

A man that went to war as often as he had done, whose sword had been called on by the king as much, couldn’t afford a reputation for weakness.

And if the wars were over, well, experience had shown him that new ones could start at any time. A foolish word, a too proud prince with no restraint, and he would be back in the thick of battle.

The sound of girlish giggling echoed across the yard, someone carrying over the ringing of steel on steel as his men worked their daily training drills

She was scurrying across the yard, head close to that of her maid, Rose. She had had become fast friends with the other girl, and the two of them spent an unusual amount of time with their heads together. Giggling.

This time they were shooting furtive glances in his direction, or at least in the direction of his general presence.

Were they watching him? Or the training?

Hux and Finn broke apart, both sweating from exertion and swearing at the demands of their sparring. There was a minor scuffle, but Ben paid little attention. They were like brothers and fought accordingly. A fight was hardly worth noticing without a stabbing or broken bone.

“What are you staring at, my lord? You look like you were the one who got knocked in the head!”

Ben frowned at Hux, gesturing to where his wife was still huddled with Rose. “I might as well have been. Trying to figure out the mysteries of a woman hurts the mind nearly as much.”

Hux glanced over, turned a shade of impossible scarlet, and spun back around. “Wives and women are marvelous puzzle, my lord,” he said, but he wasn’t looking Ben in the eye.

Ben laughed and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Are you still trying to find your courage to speak to that girl?”

Hux sputtered but couldn’t work out an explanation that could defend against the still rising heat in his cheeks.

Ben shook his head, while Finn elbowed Hux in the ribs and laughed. They had all trusted this man’s bravery in battle and couldn’t resist the urge to point out that he had been brought to cowardice by a pretty face.

Poe joined them, wiping mud off his sword as he came. “Are we mocking Hux about Rose again?” He ducked when Hux swung a half-hearted fist at him, and they all laughed again.

“Just talk to the girl and put yourself out of your misery,” Ben encouraged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Hux rolled his eyes. “She could say no,” he said emphatically. “I’m not after a quick tumble with that one. I want her.” Hux’s face was set, and Ben regretted teasing him.

“You’ll not want her less by not speaking to her,” he pointed out. “She’s marriageable, and if someone else asks her first…” He let the words hang and watched Hux frown.

“Easy of you to give advice,” he muttered, “since you had a bride arranged for you.”

“You say that like it’s helped him,” Finn said with a sigh. “He can’t stop staring at her and he hasn’t stopped smiling when he thinks no one is looking since the day we showed up for the wedding!”

The others laughed, but Ben scowled at them. “I’ve not been staring at the wench,” he muttered, his gaze sliding to where she stood, smiling in the sunshine.

“You’re staring at her now,” Poe laughed, and Ben’s scowl deepened.

She looked up to discover him glaring at her with a thunderous expression, and her own smile faltered.

He smoothed his expression, giving her a reassuring look that seemed to settle her for the present.

“Talk to the girl, Hux, before someone else does,” he said, watching the two of them intently as they walked back inside.

Hux nodded, seeming to give it real thought for the first time.

“Good,” Ben said, and set off in pursuit of his wife.

He knew he shouldn’t, that everyone was watching him pursue her like a lovesick youth, but he was as a man possessed.

He trailed her to her chambers, opening the door and interrupting a stream of low whispers as she discussed whatever the afternoon’s events had been with Rose.

He locked eyes on her as soon as the door opened, and she froze mid word, her mouth left slightly parted and eyes wide.

“Leave us,” he told Rose quietly and she jumped to her feet, curtsying quickly before dashing out the door.

“Ben?” Rey’s voice wobbled; concern now etched on her face.

“You’re a distraction,” he announced abruptly.

“A distraction? I don’t understand?”

“I don’t understand it either, but it’s true. I can’t stop looking at you even if I have many other things that I should be doing.”

Rey frowned, turning on her seat to face him more fully. She stacked her hands in her lap and he realized that she was regarding him with great patience, waiting for him to explain himself in any way that made sense.

“You shouldn’t be a distraction,” he explained slowly. “I cannot have such a weakness. Men need to be able to follow me in battle. They must be able to rely on my clear head.”

She nodded. “Have they stopped trusting you? Since I arrived and became a distraction?”

He frowned. “No, they haven’t. It still isn’t acceptable for a man who leads to not have his mind where it belongs.”

“And it doesn’t belong on me?” She tipped her head, regarding him seriously even as she made him feel foolish.

“At certain times, it may. Not at all times.”

She nodded again, appearing properly chastised, though he suspected that she was subtly mocking him.

“Is now one of the times when your mind is permitted to be on me? Or is that only for when we are alone in our beds at night?” She looked so innocent, but he wasn’t fooled at all this time. He could see the desire rising in her eyes, the subtle flush of pink creeping into her cheeks.

He flicked his gaze out the window, eyeing the sinking sun and making a quick calculation of how much time remained until they would be expected for dinner.

Not much, but perhaps enough.

“You can be on my mind now,” he said confidently, “but in the future, please contain yourself until after the evening meal.”

She lifted a brow at the absurdity of his statement, but fortunately didn’t comment.

He strode across the room to lift her from her seat, crushing her mouth under his and groaning when she arched into him and tangled her fingers in his hair.

She accepted his irritation good naturedly, making no attempt to protest his rough grip or the nibble of his teeth on her skin.

He was impatient and determined to shake off some of the hold she had over him, but when he pulled her off him, spinning her around to bend over the bed and push her skirts up around her hips, she merely shot him an enticing, impish grin over her shoulder.

He ran a finger over her core, finding her already wet and willing. He grunted in satisfaction. She was always ready, always eager.

How was he supposed to be a commanding husband, to keep his mind of her body and his need to sink into it, when she was always there and always wanting?

He reached between them, fumbling at the ties to his trousers with shaking fingers. He wanted her more, lost more of his control, with each passing day.

When he pushed the tip of his hardness against her, she leaned forward, pressing up on her toes to take him more easily.

He plunged into her roughly, tearing a groan from them both as he came to rest deeply inside her. She pushed back against him, seeking even more. He had stopped worrying overmuch about hurting her, she wanted as much as he was able to give.

“Ben,” she whined, writhing against him until the threads of his control frayed. He dug his fingers into her hips, finally giving her what she wanted and beginning to move within her.

She was wanton, nearly wicked in her greed, but he could not fault her. He felt the same desperation, the same overwhelming need.

His set a punishing pace, tangling his hand in the hair that cascaded over her back, and reveling in each soft moan, every harsh gasp of pleasure that he was able to draw from her.

She grew wetter with each thrust, and soon he was sliding into her with little resistance, the sound of his flesh slapping against her own joining the sounds she made.

When she began to clench around him, her body tightening in delightful spasms that caressed him with each wave of sensation that passed through her, he pressed into her with a shout, emptying himself into her while his own climax roared through him.

He caught her as she stumbled, her legs going weak beneath her, holding her against him and rubbing his cheek against her hair.

Any notion that having her now would get her off his mind until after dinner vanished as quickly as it had come. She was still in his arms and already he was thinking about bedding her again once the sun went down.

He had grown soft and possessive, allowed too much of his happiness to rest on this one small woman.

He pushed aside the traitorous voice in his mind that suggested a name for this bothersome state. Having such feelings for any woman was a weakness, having them for his own wife was bound to be a disaster.

They both washed and dressed quickly, and she tucked her hand onto his arm obediently as they stepped from the room.

She gave him a quick, knowing smile as he pulled the door closed behind him,

“You can be a distraction again once I am done seeing to it that you have eaten,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, my lord. Of course.”

He ignored the amusement in her voice, giving her hand a quick squeeze as they descended the stairs toward the great hall.


	7. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Open confession is good for the soul- Proverb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW For Pregnancy, babies, and childbirth in this chapter and the epilogue

Rose’s brow was furrowed with concern when Rey finally managed to lift her face out of the chamber pot long enough to notice.

She ought to have been concerned herself, but another wave of nausea coursed through her and drove every thought from her mind.

She had not even had time to break the night’s fast before the sickness had fallen upon her but a stomach devoid of food had not saved her from her body’s treachery. Her stomach tightened and heaved inside her until she was beyond empty and still it rolled.

Perhaps she was dying, she worried dimly, resting her sweaty forehead on her forearm as she tried to suck in deep breaths while her stomach allowed.

“This is the third day of this illness,” Rose’s voice sounded far away, barely more than a ringing in her ears, but she spoke the truth. Each morning began with illness and each afternoon it faded until she thought the sickness had passed. By dinner she was ravenous, but otherwise unaffected.

Unable to form words around the foul taste in her mouth, she merely grunted an unladylike agreement.

“You’ve been here some time now,” Rose continued carefully, “and I haven’t noticed any signs of your monthly bleeding…”

Rey lifted her head and stared at Rose blankly. She hadn’t had any bleeding since she arrived, but she couldn’t imagine how that could be related to her current problem.

“Have you had your monthly time?” Rose persisted.

“No,” Rey croaked, “I haven’t. Do you think your lord as decided to poison me due to its absence?”

Rose’s eyes widened and the concerned look returned to her face, her lips turning even further downward at the corners.

“I beg your forgiveness, but your grandfather should be flogged for not enduring that you were better prepared for your life as married woman,” she said harshly.

Rey’s mouth fell open in surprise. Rose was always kind and soft-spoken, to hear her speak ill of anyone was a shock.

Rey said the only thing that she could think to say in the face of her friend’s newly discovered venom. “Why?”

“You’re carrying, my lady,” she said bluntly. “I’ve seen it many times in my sister and the other village women, and I am almost certain.”

The room quickly swam out of focus as the full impact of Rose’s words settled over her. She had never feared becoming a mother. It had been a nice thought, the idea of having a babe at her breast and the years of love that she would be able to gift to a child.

She could see to it that they got all of the things that she herself had never received. Love, attention, praise.

But now…the idea of a child inside her filled her with dread. What would Ben do when he discovered her current state?

He might abandon her bed entirely now, perhaps even forever if the child proved to be a boy. Once he had provided his family with an heir there was nothing to keep him here.

A new pitching in her stomach drove her face back into the chamber pot and this time when she lifed her eyes to Rose there were fresh tears on her cheeks.

“It can’t be,” she insisted. “Perhaps it is only something I ate. Something new in the kitchens.”

Rose sighed at the pleading note in her voice. “There is nothing to fear. You are young and healthy, and our women have much experience aiding in difficult births if it becomes necessary.”

Rey eyed her uncertainly. She had not even thought of the birthing process, nor did she know anything about it, beyond the distant cries of the mother that could occasionally be heard from her bedroom window.

“Did they teach you nothing?” Rose rolled her eyes in exasperation and sat down next to Rey on the bed. “You cannot go through this unprepared.”

By the end of the morning, Rey had been properly educated according to Rose’s standards and though she was still skeptical that the birthing would go quite the way that was described, she felt more at ease that all would be well when the time came.

Ben had fortunately made a habit of leaving her to sleep while he went about his morning duties, often not seeing her till well after the noon hour when she was feeling much less ill, and she had not mentioned her sickness to him.

Rose had urged her to tell him, but Rey had forbidden it. The longer it could be concealed from him, the better.

She watched him carefully over the next few weeks, but he gave no sign of suspicion. His eyes still lingered on her hungrily whenever she crossed his path, and he still carried her to bed eagerly every night.

If he noticed that she kissed him more desperately, that she clung to him with greater enthusiasm than she ever had before, he said nothing.

Rose’s glower increased with each passing day, and her warnings that soon she would begin to show became more dire. “You have to tell him,” she chastised firmly as she loosened the ties on yet another dress to make more room about Rey’s middle.

“Don’t you have enough to worry about? Your wedding to Hux should have given you plenty to keep your mind busy,” Rey said, tipping her head knowledgably.

“He keeps me busy enough,” Rose said with a giggle, “but not so busy that I can’t worry about you just the same.”

She stepped around Rey and reached for her hands, holding them tightly in her own and forcing Rey to look her in the eyes. “He is not going to leave you” she said earnestly. “Lord Ren is a stern man, but he is softer when he looks at you than I have ever seen him.”

“I will have to tell him,” Rey acknowledged sadly. “But I want as much time with him as I can have first. Just in case.”

Rose shook her head but didn’t argue further. “Love makes a fool of us all,” she muttered, and returned helping Rey dress.

Rey’s thoughts lurched uncomfortably at Rose’s words.

She was not in love with Ben. He had been kind to her, certainly, and there was no denying that she enjoyed his touch but her desire to keep him with her was firmly centered on her desire to never be alone again.

Except she wouldn’t be alone, she realized abruptly. She would remain here, with his parents, and Rose, and the baby.

She had found a family here. People who cared about her and were welcoming and kind. None of that would change if Ben left.

Images of her life here without him flashed through her mind. None of the scenes were empty, there was still companionship and belonging without him.

Why, then, did the thought of it fill her with such incredible dread?

“Rose,” she murmured, “I think I might be in love with my husband.” She turned to face her friend, a new sort of horror settling over her.

Rose began to laugh and soon had to sit on the bed as tears of mirth spilled down her cheeks. “You’re only just realizing that you’re in love with him?” she gasped. “You were in love with him before you ever arrived here.”

“I was?” She thought back over their time together and the caring way he had always held her, the joy that she had felt in his presence whenever she looked at him. “I was,” she realized. “What do I do?” she asked, looking at Rose in desperation.

“You tell him,” Rose said simply, wiping tears from her cheeks. “About that and about the baby.”

“What if he doesn’t love me?” Rey whispered.

“He does,” Rose said confidently, but Rey’s heart was shaky with doubt and fear.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Several people asked her if she was feeling ill, and though the worst of her sickness had now passed,she merely nodded.

Leia shook her head at the missed stitches in the tapestry but held her tongue as she fixed Rey’s mistakes. Rey caught mother-in-law watching her closely several times until Ben returned late in the afternoon.

She was in no state of mind to be able to carry on a conversation and Ben’s looks became more and more concerned as the evening meal wore on.

He lifted her to her feet as soon as she had nibbled away the last of her food and led her from the room without a word to anyone, his grip firm on her elbow.

She didn’t protest as he propelled her up the stairs to their bedchamber and closed the door behind her with a resounding bang that she was certain could be heard from outside.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked as he guided her toward the bed, pushing her down and standing above her with his hands firmly on her shoulders and his eyes boring holes into her own.

“I’m simply not…feeling well,” she stammered quietly.

“Not feeling well?” he repeated suspiciously. “In what way are you not feeling well? I don’t like it, you should call for Rose, ask her for help. Then you will feel better.” He announced his plan triumphantly, as though he had already solved her problem by simply not agreeing with it.

“I have already spoken to Rose,” she said timidly. “It seems that I will not be feeling better for quite some time.”

He frowned, a look of thunderous displeasure settling over his face. “If she cannot fix it, then we will send for a doctor.” He turned on his heel, seemingly already prepared to walk out and hunt down the nearest doctor even though night was rapidly falling outside the window.

“There is no need for a doctor at this time,” she called, stopping him just before he reached the door. “Though it seems I will have need of the midwife in several months time.”

She let the words pour out of her in haste, before fear could steal them away.

He froze with his hand on the door and remained there without moving for so long that she began to worry that he was angry at her about the babe.

He turned to look at her slowly, his face a blank mask that did nothing to set her concerns at ease. “Are you certain?” he asked quietly.

She nodded slowly, fingers twisting in the folds of her dress to hide her nervousness. “I am. I have been for several weeks now.”

“Why did you not tell me?” He took several steps in her direction, stopping just short of touching her.

She shrugged, looking away from him to watch the sun set through the window. “I was afraid that you would be angry…or that you would leave. Now that I am with child, you need not return until the birth. If it is a boy…” She let the words hang. He would understand the implications.

“That is what you think of me?” he asked softly, sinking to his knees before her and wrapping his arms gently around her waist. “That I would leave you when you need me most?”

She gazed down at him, her eyes roaming restless over the dark, tangled mass of his hair, the softness of his lips, the pleading in his eyes. She had come to fear the loss of him so much that she had been unable to truly look at him for so long, afraid that she would see disinterest or disdain on his face when he looked at her.

What she saw was more than she had hoped for. It went beyond desire. He looked at her with the care and tenderness that she had feared she would never see.

“It is not what I think of you,” she told him truthfully, pushing a stray lock of hair back from his face, “but it is what I most feared. I love you and I do not wish to be parted from you, now or at any point in the future.”

He sucked in a breath at her words and pressed a kiss to her lips that soon turned hungry and possessive.

She pulled him in, leaning back on the bed to draw him on top of her.

“Wait,” he muttered. He looked into her eyes, “I love you. I think almost from the moment I saw you. I should have told you sooner. I should have done so many things sooner.”

She smiled at him, the thrill of his words rushing through her and bringing tears of joy to her eyes. “You’ve done everything just right,” she assured him, raising her lips to his.

It had become a familiar ritual, the slow stripping of the layers of fabric between them and the gradual coming together of exposed skin. He trailed his fingers over her softly, leaving a path of heat and tingling flesh in his wake.

She cried out softly when his dipped his head to circle her nipple with the warm wetness of his tongue. Her body had become impossibly sensitive and he pressed a calming kiss to the aching pink nub before moving his attention to the gently swelling expanse of her stomach.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he murmured. He tipped his head, peaking up at her with a broad smile.

“You’re very proud of yourself,” she observed as she watched him splay a possessive hand over her, settling gently just below her navel.

“I am,” he assured her smugly. “Everything will be fine. You and the baby will be healthy.”

If he said so, then she believed him.

He turned his attention lower, smoothing his hand over her thigh and letting his head dip to run hot kisses across her hip.

She opened her legs for him, unashamed when he slid his tongue across her, sliding into her to lavish attention at her core until she was heated and panting with every stroke.

When he finally moved over her, kissing her with lips and tongue that tasted like her own arousal, she grabbed at his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his hips to pull him in.

He paused suddenly, poised at the entrance to her body. His muscles were tense with the strain of controlling himself, but his face was set with a sudden flare of concern.

“Will it hurt,” he whispered quietly. “The baby?”

She shook her head, placing a hand softly against his cheek. “No. I asked Rose when I first suspected and she promised it was safe.”

He dropped his head in relief, nuzzling his face into her neck as he pressed into her. They both sighed when he came to rest inside her completely, a perfect joining now that no secrets and no fears lay unspoken between them.

He moved slowly, setting a gentle, shallow rhythm that made her smile. He was always so careful with her, so determined to keep her safe and happy.

She knew he would relax with time, as his faith grew that she was not any more fragile now than she had been before, but for now she settled contentedly into the languid pace of his lovemaking and the sweetness of his mood.

He kissed her softly, pouring love and reassurance into every slant of his lips and slide of his tongue, and twined his fingers with her own as he drove her steadily over a soft peak that rolled through her for what felt like an eternity.

When he joined her, spilling himself inside her with a rush of warmth, his voice echoed in her ears. Soft whispers repeated like a prayer of salvation.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be ready. Here comes life- Maya Angelou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavy on pregnancy, childbirth, and babies. If that is something that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and don't read.

The scream that cut through the early morning silence was enough to make him wonder if the midwife would have the courage to kick him out of the birthing room for a third time.

He he resented being removed from his own bedchamber, even if he could almost understand the first two occurrences since he had spent most of the night hovering angrily at his wife’s bedside and scowling.

As the hours of her laboring wore on and her pain worsened so had his scowl.

The midwife had ushered him out the first time for making the other women nervous while they were trying to help with preparations, and he had to admit even Rose seemed a bit skittish once she caught a glimpse of his expression, and the second time because Rey herself was beginning to get concerned about his increasingly sour mood.

That had been hours ago, and the sounds of her pain had only increased since the door had been resolutely closed behind him.

He paced to the door, momentarily determined to open it despite the midwife’s instructions, but walked away again as a particularly agonized cry reached his ears.

He was Lord Ren, he had every right to demand entrance to see that she was alright, but the thought of her writhing in pain as she struggled to bring his babe into the world filled him dread.

He looked up as his own father walked into view. Han looked as pale and uneasy as he felt.

“No news?” he asked, shaking his head at the sounds coming from the other side of the door. “I don’t recall it being this long when your mother birthed you. Though it was long enough that I was glad we never had another.”

Ben sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ll never touch her again,” he swore.

“Rey is strong and if was truly amiss, your mother would have come out to tell you. Your young wife will be fine and so will the child.”

He tried to smile, but words had no ability to comfort him now. He needed to see both wife and child unharmed and healthy before he could possibly lose the knot of fear and concern in his stomach. He knew his parents had come to love Rey since she had been with them, but nothing could compare to the way he felt about her.

If anything happened to her…well, he didn’t know how he could continue to exist without her now.

He winced as another cry rang out, longer and louder than any that had come before, followed by a heavy silence that seemed to stretch a little too long.

He turned toward the bedchamber door, determined to let nothing stand between him and Rey, not even an intractable midwife, when the first breathy and fragile wail hit his ears.

Some of his tension drained away as the infant’s cries grew stronger. The baby sounded healthy and the birth was now done. Only news of the mother remained.

Several long minutes passed before the door opened to reveal his mother, smiling widely and carrying a wiggling bundle of soft cloth.

“You have a fine, strong daughter! And Rey is doing wonderful. She is resting, but you can go in to see her shortly, as soon as the bed linens are changed and the midwife is done with her duties.”

The babe in her arms began to cry again, with increasing volume and agitation.

He peered over his mother’s arm at the squirming ball of rage that she held cradled to her chest.

His daughter’s face was wrinkly and red from the force of her screams and she had a shock of his black curls already covering her tiny head. She waved one irate fist at him and his heart tumbled in his chest.

He was a father.

He glanced up at his mother, who was watching him with a knowing smile. She shifted the baby gently into his arms, carefully guiding him to correctly supporting her head.

His hands suddenly seemed overly large and clumsy, and surely they were too rough for a baby’s skin. He shook his head, suddenly panicked at the idea of hurting her, but before he could insist that Leia take her back, she stopped her wailing and stared up at his face. She had serious eyes, gray like her mother’s.

“She trusts you already,” Leia said happily, moving to the side so that her husband could see his new granddaughter.

“Pretty little thing,” Han commented, clearing his throat to disguise the emotion in his voice.

The door behind them opened and the midwife exited the bedchamber, followed by all the of the ladies that had helped with the birthing. Rose gave him a reassuring smile as she passed, and the midwife patted his hand.

Rey’s eyes were closed when he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

The last of his fear faded away at the sight of her. Hair clung to her damp forehead and she had dark circles under her eyes, but there was a healthy bloom of color in her cheeks.

She opened her eyes as he approached the bed, visibly relieved to see that he was carrying their child with him.

“How is she?”

“Perfect,” he reassured her, handing her their daughter and watching curiously as his wife cuddled her close and breathed in her smell.

“We did very well this time,” Rey announced, smiling at him with thinly veiled pride as she guided a nipple to their daughter’s mouth and she began to suckle hungrily.

“This time? We do not need any other times. One will simply have to be enough.” He said it firmly and he meant it. Nothing was worth putting her through all of that again. It would be many long and sleepless nights before he forgot the sounds of her pain.

Rey only clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly. “I wish to have a very large family, my dear husband. I am certain that you are up to providing me as many babes as I wish and just as certain that I can provide you with a full and happy household.”

She had a determined glint in her eye, and he knew it would be pointless to argue. If she wanted a dozen children, then he would provide them for her.

He kissed her cheek and brushed his daughter’s hand gently with his finger. “What should we name her?”

Rey pursed her lips, eyebrows drawn together in great concentration. “Celeste,” she said finally. “She is a gift from heaven to bless our marriage.”

He nodded. “She certainly is. Thank you for our daughter and for loving me.”

“I could not help but love you. Thank you for loving me and for giving me a family.” She looked impossibly content, even as she sighed deeply and relaxed into the pillows.Her eyes drifted closed moments after he took Celeste from her arms and insisted she rest awhile longer.

He stared in awe at the faces of his wife and daughter as they slept. He could no longer image his life without these blessings from a marriage he never wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed it!


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